Modern Love
I am married, but my husband and I have lived apart since we got married, not intentionally, but that's how it happened.
My husband has been living in Bloomington, Indiana , since we got married four years ago. He is working on his Ph.D. Most of the time I live in New York , [where I own and run a retail store], but I return to Delhi twice a year for work, a holiday and a chance to meet family.
David lived in Morocco, on a Fulbright scholarship, the year after America went to war in Iraq. I was scared for his life, and always feared he might be kidnaped and have his throat slit live on T.V., becoming the next Danny Pearl in Morocco. But other than being pick-pocketed he survived the year. We met in Paris at this time, he came from Morocco by boat and train through Spain. I came from New York by plane. We don't believe in cell phones (waste of money, don't have so many people to call, and don't want to be on call 24-7). So we have to depend on the announcement intercoms when we are lost at airports. We have spent only one anniversary together; otherwise his grandmother sends chocolates and flowers to me from him. I like waking early, he likes to be up late.
We meet up once every couple of months. This has been going on since we got married. We have never lived together. I am from New Delhi, he is from St.Louis. We were at Sarah Lawrence College together, but then we lost touch, and the met up at Columbia. University's Miller theater six years later. We had both gone to watch a dance performance by Malvika Sarabai titled V for Violence. We dated for a couple of years, while he was in New York, he had his apartment and I had mine. We decided to get married after five years of dating, then he applied to graduate schools for his dissertation, and got a full scholarship to Bloomington. He tipped his hat while getting into a taxi to LaGuardia airport, and left me in New York.
Our marriage took place in Delhi, with a lot of pomp and splendor. We both flew from New York but on separate planes to Delhi, I had bought my ticket earlier, and he bought his ticket later. We spent our honey moon in Kerala at an Ayurvedic resort where the food was bland, the massages were great and the views amazing. We married, honeymooned, and then he left to go back to Bloomington and I came to New York.
We speak on the phone regularly, we fight on the phone and make up on the phone. He can tell my moods by my voice and I can tell his. If he's low I cheer him up, if I am low he cheers me up.
My family is concerned, and worried about me being alone in New York. Some family who get confused, ask where is he, is he back from Morocco (he has been back over a year now), how he's doing in Cincinnati, some clueless relatives repeat, I don't correct them, since they will probably repeat the mistake again next year, it all sounds the same to them.
My grand mother says " its about time he came back and lived with you, it's the giddy limit" Our social lives are strange, since we are married but not a unit. I hang out with my single friends, and he hangs out in Bloomington with other single folk.
This summer he is planning to move back to New York and I don't know how we will cope living together, after living apart all our married lives! We love each other but we also like our own separate spaces. We are each others' best friends, we tell each what happened in our day, we ask each others' advise and gripe if our work has been stressful. He analyzes my family sometimes objectively and me his whenever necessary. It isn't an easy life, but then no ones life is simple, just some people's are more complicated than others.
My husband has been living in Bloomington, Indiana , since we got married four years ago. He is working on his Ph.D. Most of the time I live in New York , [where I own and run a retail store], but I return to Delhi twice a year for work, a holiday and a chance to meet family.
David lived in Morocco, on a Fulbright scholarship, the year after America went to war in Iraq. I was scared for his life, and always feared he might be kidnaped and have his throat slit live on T.V., becoming the next Danny Pearl in Morocco. But other than being pick-pocketed he survived the year. We met in Paris at this time, he came from Morocco by boat and train through Spain. I came from New York by plane. We don't believe in cell phones (waste of money, don't have so many people to call, and don't want to be on call 24-7). So we have to depend on the announcement intercoms when we are lost at airports. We have spent only one anniversary together; otherwise his grandmother sends chocolates and flowers to me from him. I like waking early, he likes to be up late.
We meet up once every couple of months. This has been going on since we got married. We have never lived together. I am from New Delhi, he is from St.Louis. We were at Sarah Lawrence College together, but then we lost touch, and the met up at Columbia. University's Miller theater six years later. We had both gone to watch a dance performance by Malvika Sarabai titled V for Violence. We dated for a couple of years, while he was in New York, he had his apartment and I had mine. We decided to get married after five years of dating, then he applied to graduate schools for his dissertation, and got a full scholarship to Bloomington. He tipped his hat while getting into a taxi to LaGuardia airport, and left me in New York.
Our marriage took place in Delhi, with a lot of pomp and splendor. We both flew from New York but on separate planes to Delhi, I had bought my ticket earlier, and he bought his ticket later. We spent our honey moon in Kerala at an Ayurvedic resort where the food was bland, the massages were great and the views amazing. We married, honeymooned, and then he left to go back to Bloomington and I came to New York.
We speak on the phone regularly, we fight on the phone and make up on the phone. He can tell my moods by my voice and I can tell his. If he's low I cheer him up, if I am low he cheers me up.
My family is concerned, and worried about me being alone in New York. Some family who get confused, ask where is he, is he back from Morocco (he has been back over a year now), how he's doing in Cincinnati, some clueless relatives repeat, I don't correct them, since they will probably repeat the mistake again next year, it all sounds the same to them.
My grand mother says " its about time he came back and lived with you, it's the giddy limit" Our social lives are strange, since we are married but not a unit. I hang out with my single friends, and he hangs out in Bloomington with other single folk.
This summer he is planning to move back to New York and I don't know how we will cope living together, after living apart all our married lives! We love each other but we also like our own separate spaces. We are each others' best friends, we tell each what happened in our day, we ask each others' advise and gripe if our work has been stressful. He analyzes my family sometimes objectively and me his whenever necessary. It isn't an easy life, but then no ones life is simple, just some people's are more complicated than others.
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